


Bad News

by lumberwoof



Category: RWBY
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-18
Updated: 2015-05-18
Packaged: 2018-03-31 02:51:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3961699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lumberwoof/pseuds/lumberwoof
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blake recalls the friend who helped her get into Beacon and worries about his safety in the aftermath of the fight with Torchwick on the docks. Takes place after the first episode of volume 2.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad News

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written after the first episode of volume 2 aired and based on a headcanon that Tukson and Blake knew each other. Unfortunately no longer canon compliant but I still felt it was worthy of being posted.

_Sunlight shone through the cracks in the boarded up windows, illuminating the swirling motes of dust that polluted the air with must, coiling around the stacks of tomes cluttering the floor and tables. Blake groaned and squeezed her eyes shut, tried to retain the last bits of sleep before they slipped through her fingertips._

_It took a moment to remember she was in the soon to be bookstore, that she wasn’t part of the White Fang anymore. Still, her heart pounded violently in her chest until she was sure that no one had found them. She sniffed, ears free and twisting as she took in her surroundings._

_Empty. A flash of panic crashed through her like a lightning bolt, but faded just as fast. Tukson was out getting all the paperwork in order so he could open the shop. He’d told her that last night - said not to worry when she woke up and he wasn’t there._

_The light scent of hibiscus carried over the must of old books, and Blake realized Tukson had been thoughtful enough to leave the kettle on for her. She swung her legs over the edge of the cot and winced as she sat up, back painfully stiff. Glad that no one was around to hear the low groan that escaped her lips, she popped her back, delighting in the way the tension eased off immediately._

_She grabbed a random book from one of the stacks - The Thief and The Butcher - and started reading it, Gambol Shroud slung over her shoulder as she walked to the makeshift kitchen. Weeks had passed since she’d left Adam on that train and flown the coop - turned her back on the White Fang and all that it stood for._

_Turned her back on the only thing she had ever known._

_She focused on the words on the page, drowning out the anxiety before it took grip._

_Tukson had already been on his way out when she’d finally drawn the line and decided to jump ship, too._

_She poured herself a mug of tea and sat, wedged in a corner behind a stack of boxes and curled up on a garbage bag full of laundry, putting herself in a position where she could see all the entryways without being seen herself. Her fingers tightened around the grip of her weapon, even as her eyes dragged across the text of the page in front of her. Black cat ears stood alert, swiveling and twitching with each unfamiliar sound - the lady in the shop next door taking out the trash, rats in the walls, people walking outside, the bland music playing at the coffee shop across the street._

_The back door to the shop creaked open. “It’s me,” Tukson said, deep voice rolling through the shop like a soothing ripple._

_Blake sighed shakily, only then realizing she had jolted to her feet, thumb resting on Gambol Shroud’s safety. “I’m in the front,” she called._

_Tukson came through the doorway attaching the back of the shop to the front, carrying a bag of what smelled like… Vacuo cuisine? She wondered if he was trying to get adjusted to the cuisine there, since Vacuo was his planned destination should he ever need to get up and leave. Two manilla envelopes were tucked under his arm._

_“Is that the permit?”_

_Tukson set the plastic bag on the table, frowning when he realized there was no space to lay out the spread. “Yeah, it is. Help me move these, kit?”_

_Had anyone else called her that, she would’ve broken their nose, but Tukson was an exception. They shared a lot in common, and in some ways, he was the brother she’d always wanted, the mentor that Adam had failed to be. So when he’d joked one day “look at us, a big cat and a little kit” she’d beamed, heart warmed by the familiar teasing - like a sibling._

_Smiling at the memory, Blake shot to her feet, leaving her book and weapon behind so she could heft a large stack of books - so high she could barely see over them - off the desk and onto a random free spot on the floor. Tukson did the same until the table was mostly clear and they had room to eat._

_Blake set the table with paper plates and plastic utensils as Tukson laid the meal out. Mostly vegetables and noodles, but one particular dish he uncovered had Blake’s mouth watering. He held it out to her with an enticing smile. “Dolphinfish - in Vacuo, I heard it’s called mahi-mahi.”_

_He’d probably garbled the pronunciation, but she was too entranced by smell to notice. However… “That sounds fancy,” she murmured, skeptical as he heaped a fair portion onto both their plates. “As in expensive.”_

_He pointedly avoided looking at her, ignoring her narrowed gaze and eyebrow arched in question._

_“You said you didn’t want to take out a loan, so you weren’t gonna splurge. What happened, Tuk?”_

_He sighed and set down the fish, picking up a fried vegetable dish and serving it. “The permit costed more than we calculated. First time fees and all that stuff,” he said. “I didn’t have a choice but to take out the loan. And then I figured, if we’re gonna do this, why not celebrate a little? We’ve made it pretty far, Blake. Further than most I think.”_

_“How big’s the loan?”_

_“Not too big - it was the smallest loan I could get. Look, Blake-”_

_“How much?”_

_He shrugged. “The smallest I could get was over double what I needed for the permit–”_

_“Tukson!”_

_“–but that’s okay, Blake! Look, it’s not a lot to pay off and I was able to use the extra money to do something else.”_

_“Tukson, what?”_

_He handed Blake one of the manilla envelopes and nodded when her fingers hesitated to open it. Inside were several sheets of paper, the first of which was boldly headed with the words “Application for Admission.”_

_“You said if you had the money you’d go,” Tukson whispered, watching the tight line of Blake’s jaw, the way her throat bobbed and her eyes went glassy. “And I had the money. Tuition, books, admission, uniform and everything - it’s all paid for Blake. You just have to fill out the paperwork.”_

_“But the bookshop.”_

_Her voice wobbled and the paper fluttered in her shaking hand._

_He shrugged, smiling softly as he scratched at the thick hair on his jaw. “I can run it by myself, Blake.”_

_She looked up at him, finally tearing her eyes from the papers. Her mouth opened but no words came out. Gratitude and equal parts panic swelled up within her. Beacon had always just been a pipe-dream, something that she could toy with but never had worry about committing to, and now Tukson had delivered the opportunity right into her lap. Rough fingers brushed her arm - a brief, comforting touch that didn’t linger - and she looked back to the papers, embarrassed by the dampness of the eyes. “Thank you,” she mumbled._

* * *

The sun slipped through the poor stitching of the curtain, beat at Blake’s face until she woke from her memory, her eyes taking in the stack of books before her - _The Count of Monte Cristo_ , _Nevermore and other selected poems_ , _Grimm Origins_ , _The Man in the Iron Mask_ , _The Call of the Wild_ , _The Thief and the Butcher_ \- all resting neatly on her bedpost, supporting the leg of Yang’s bed above.

Exhaling a shaky breath, Blake tried to quell the emotions that had been brought back - muted things that still tugged deep and left her with a tremor she could not easily steady. She hadn’t seen Tukson since she’d started Beacon. Things had been so hectic and unfamiliar and decidedly overwhelming. Befriending new people, taking classes, doing homework - she’d only had the time to message him every so often.

The last time she’d messaged him had been a few days ago, about the incident at the docks. With the White Fang’s presence increasing in Vale, it wouldn’t be safe for him to stick around - she’d promised that Beacon was a safe haven for her and not to worry, but even she didn’t know that. _/WF coming to Vale. Not safe for you. Message me when you get out./_

Her scroll beeped as it received a new message and she hoped, as she’d been hoping for days, that it was finally Tukson, telling her he was safe in Vacuo.

It wasn’t - it was from Professor Goodwitch: _/Ms. Belladonna, you are requested by Headmaster Ozpin. Please head to his office immediately./_

Her heart started a frantic beat, counting down to what she knew was going to be a bad encounter. It was only a matter of time, wasn’t it? She hadn’t lied about her faunus heritage on her application, though she had hidden any past ties with the White Fang. And now, this whole thing at the docks with Torchwick had probably blown it all open.

She refused to look at her sleeping teammates as she dressed, didn’t want to think that this might be the last time she’d be inside this dorm as a student. The walk passed by in a blur of nothingness, brain numb from emotion. Professor Goodwitch led her up the spiraling staircase to the clocktower where Ozpin’s office was. The room was expansive and sparsely decorated, skylight illuminating his desk like it was an interrogation room.

The gears spinning in the walls and the high ceiling should’ve entrapped her with wonderment, but the rotten feeling in her gut kept her focused on the headmaster, his back turned as he poured tea into a mug.

“Please, sit,” he said.

Blake didn’t move. “As I have an idea of what this is, I think I’d prefer to stand.”

Ozpin turned towards her, and the soft look in his eyes caught her off guard. “I assure you,” he said, voice tinged with something unfamiliar and sad. Something she was not equipped to handle, not from Ozpin. “This is not what you think it is. Now, please, sit down.”

Blake did as she was told, hands shaking - heart and mind racing to see which could go faster. The scent of jasmine with the barest hints of honey tickled her nose as Ozpin set the mug down in front of her. “I’m not much of a tea person myself, but I’ve heard the blend is soothing.”

He sat down across from her, frowning almost guiltily as her trembling hand grasped the mug. This wasn’t right. None of this was right.

“Blake, the police called earlier this morning.” He looked at her strangely, expression soft and voice softer. “I’m afraid they had some bad news about your friend Tukson.”


End file.
